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#i can usually get the tone of an ask from the first bit and if it's hateful i just block immediately and delete the ask from my email
corollaservant · 18 hours
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Sweet Delight // Gojo x f!reader (18+)
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Synopsis: You are too nice to be serving rude customers for minimum wage. Rest assured that Satoru will take care of it.
Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, noncon/ very dubious consent, somno, stalking, knives, deception, mind games, murder mentions, violence (not to reader).. that's all.
A/N: Yan!Gojo is Joe Goldberg to me, idk. Beta read by my guy bsf who said the ending sucked.
It started on a Friday afternoon.
He was a regular, came to the store every day to get his coffee. No sugar. Iced. The order was unlike him, he seemed sweet, or at least friendly and inviting, he had the type of eyes your friends gushed over when talking about their favorite movie stars, too blue, too inquiring.
At first he smiled and handed you a bill, told you to keep the change and asked you if he could sit outside for a bit. Of course, why wouldn’t he? The store offered it and he knew it, he was just being polite. He would read from a book, whose cover you couldn’t see, seemed too absorbed and you often wondered how he could concentrate with the café’s obnoxiously loud music (owner’s order to attract customers). He’d more than often catch bystanders attention, be it his white hair, his tall physique or his peculiar blindfold, which he wore sometimes instead of sunglasses, the man was attracting people like a magnet. This one time a couple of girls sat down next to him and talked purposefully loud. He lifted his chair and brought it closer to the register, closer to you. Yet he still didn’t speak.
The first time he spoke to you besides a thanks and can I sit outside for a bit was when a customer harassed you verbally. You got the order wrong and while you offered a second free drink, he started calling you worthless. Your eyes watered and voice broke as he stepped in
“Please do not offend the barista, it was a simple mistake.” He spoke calmly while being twice the size of the customer.
“This is none of your business, sir” The customer scoffed as he tried standing upright to make himself taller.
“I said” Satoru sighed “please get the fuck out the store or it will be, sir” and while there wasn't any physical threat, the tone was convincing enough to have the customer backtrack, hiss and leave the store empty handed.
“I'm sorry for that.” You told him as he looked at you.
“Don't be, this wasn't your fault.”
“I'm Satoru by the way, remember me?”
Of course you did, he was the most loyal customer.
It happened on a Friday afternoon.
Your shift started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM sharp. Satoru had a meticulous routine: 1-3 was for observing. He wouldn't call it stalking, no, that word was degenerate and he wasn't like that. He was just observing you, your hands, as they moved, expressions as you skimmed milk and some of it spilled on the counter, your interactions with customers. He couldn't risk another incident like before. 3-6 was when he usually made an appearance. Black coffee. No sugar, iced and the table just across the bar; close but not too close. He was disappointed today, you hadn't looked at him once, well, in your defense the café was crowded yet you still looked gorgeous, even with your sleep deprived eyes and disheveled hair, so soft and pure. He loved that. What would it take for him to get your attention? He found himself balancing between proclaiming his feelings and showing you them but decided on the latter. He would – today.
6-9 he had to wait in his car this time, it was raining but he couldn't leave you out of his sight, what if something happened to you? Your stupid manager had you close the store at 9 PM all alone in the dark, what a cheapskate cunt, not hiring a second person on the shift. Should he kill him? No, that’d be too soon. He would make an appearance before nine anyways.
8:40 was when he got out of the car, sloppily wearing a balaclava he’d gotten from Suguru (his seventh grade ninja Halloween costume) and his usual black work uniform. A knife was in his hands as he noticed you from across the road washing some cups. Perfect, you weren't looking but also careless of you, exactly like he expected. He barged in the store and tried his hardest to make his voice drop an octave deeper, shit, would you recognize him?
“Give me your money or I'll stab you.” He laughed internally but had to put on a fake growl, your expression was priceless.
“P-please don't kill me!” was the first thing you mewled as your poor hands started shaking.
“I said now.” He said as he stabbed the blade in the air. Damn, that was too easy, you were too gullible.
“P–please I will, I-I am all alone.. I- one moment-'' Poor you, you had already started crying, tears were falling down your face but you didn't seem to notice. Should he stop this now? Probably.
“How incompetent are you? Are you this slow with customers too?” He decided to tease you a little longer, thriving off of your reactions.
Your eyes shot up for a brief second, was it the customer with Satoru a few days ago? He had said something along these lines, but this couldn't be. He was way shorter and had stopped coming ever since Satoru put him in his place. You were thankful for that.
Your hands opened the register as the paper bills you held threatened to soak, you still had one glove on, you looked a bit silly.
“Hey, hey..” Satoru’s voice returned as the mask was removed “It's just me, see?” he whispered, trying to soothe the tone as your eyes widened.
“S- satoru, what?” Your voice trembled as the cash fell from your hands and you took a step back.
“I wanted to pull a prank on you, I'm sorry if I scared you” He smiled apologetically but you still couldn't utter a word.
“W-why would you do that? That's sick!” you cried out as he came behind the bar and tried to pull you in embrace, knife now tucked in his jacket. To get close to you, to teach you a lesson, to make you need me would be his answer. You punched him on the chest, muffled cries escaping your lips. Well.. you couldn't land a blow, that was for sure, but you seemed cute with your clenched fists taking out your anger on him.
“F-fuck you!” You yelled as his firm hands stopped you and you sobbed on his chest. You smelled divine, even at the end of your shift.
Was this love?
“Hey.. come on now, I'm sorry, okay?” He said as he pulled away.
“Came to say I'll stay with you until 9, it's not safe out there.” He promised as you wordlessly returned to the sink. He'd make you love him.
Around 9:10 you closed the store. His prank had slowed you down, exactly as expected, he'd figured it wasn't often you lost control and he was proud, it affected you. You silently sat with Satoru outside while he insisted on driving you home.
“I don't need a ride. I'm fine.” It wasn't funny to tamper with your feelings like that, he didn't seem like the type and he'd taken you by surprise – actions like these didn't align with the image he painted for himself. He was always so kind, so protective, so–
“Give me the fucking store keys!” was heard before you turned your attention to the voice ahead of you. A man shouted, not too loud to alert anyone but enough to make a point. The street was empty and he was holding what seemed like a paper bag as you turned to Satoru.
This surely had to be another one of his pranks? You were about to laugh when you looked at him. He seemed taken aback, frozen in his spot and his eyes squinted as your heartbeat accelerated.
“What is it with this neighborhood and robberies?” Satoru talks after a while, his tone is confident as he looks at you and the guy growls. Why is he so calm?
“Shut the fuck up and give me the keys or I'll fucking blow your heads off!” The man says moving his hand to your direction, was this guy bluffing? Did he even have anything under the bag? You wouldn't risk it, everyone talked about the criminals in the neighborhood, you’d never work there if it wasn't for necessity.
“And if we don't?” Satoru stops you from reaching for the keys as he fights hard to wipe the grin on his face. Well, that was unexpected, but he isn't scared, he never is, as you interrupt.
“Satoru! P–please! Let me give him the keys.” You cry out, the day straight out of a nightmare and you honestly can't put up another fight. You'd rather have whoever this was steal an insignificant amount of money from the register than end your life. Sure, there wasn't much to live for, but it was always different when under real threat.
“You’d give him the keys, really?” He scoffs annoyed. He couldn’t believe what a victim you were, couldn't you see he was right there for you? Despite his abilities you still failed to see him. Silly you.
“What c-can we do? He..he– and we–” Was this really the time? Why is he even negotiating this?
“Bitch, stop talking.” The guy spouts, tired of your back and forth, as Satoru finally addresses him.
“That’s not very nice.” He says and quickly advances forward punching him in the face. It happens fast, you can't even see it but one punch is all it takes to knock him down, as he climbs on top. He pulls his fists down interchangeably multiple times — must be about 7 blows that leave the guy with no time to react, hands to his sides as he yelps. Satoru reaches for his pocket and is about to grab the knife, when he feels two warm hands touch him and he turns around.
“P-please.. let's just go home!” You sob, eyes wide and the pain in your voice breaks his heart. Home, you said? He gets up and kicks the man’s limbs like a soccer ball as blood oozes from his mouth and scalp. Satoru's knuckles are stained but he gives you his hand as the pulp ahead withers.
Home.
-
His house was large and seemed haunted, there was a long corridor with 4 separate doors and frames hanging on the walls with paintings you didn't recognize. He gives you clothes, a sleep set he had in his closet, you’d never know it was specifically tailored and cut out to your size, how would you know? It’s not like he’d tell you he stole (he called it borrow) articles you discarded at work. Your jacket when too hot, a change of pants as he brought them to the store's bathroom and returned them just as discreetly at 5:30 PM. They smelled like you, but he couldn’t categorize the odor, it was unique. As for the color.. that he didn't care about. Anything would work really. His mind couldn't stop racing when he heard the shower head start, you'd never agree to his hospitality but that was his home, his rules. You also had a very rough day and it didn't take a lot to convince you.
-
He offered you his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and despite you objecting, he got you to comply. He could only imagine how much today drained you, both physically and mentally. He let you sleep, he wasn't some monster, plus he had work to do. You’d wake up around 9 he calculated, so he had time.
When he finally sat down the couch, he couldn't sleep. Knowing you were there, so close and so vulnerable broke him. He didn't wait for his hair to dry – spot cleaning blood on the sink stole away his energy as he slipped on the bed, you were facing the wall and he placed his arms around you. You made no noise but you didn't seem to be sleeping heavily, as you’d slightly toss and turn. Poor you, was it a nightmare? He smelled your shampoo, it wasn't yours really but a variation of the ones you had at home as his fingers went through strands of your hair. He came closer, wanting to feel your body's heat and moved to your chest. His erection pressed against you – he’d been hard for some time and it wouldn’t go away and his palms searched for your nipples. One pinch and they were already hard, shit, he thought as he moved his dick on you. What if he went lower? Would you be a good girl for him? He moved to your belly as he put one leg softly over you, angling his cock directly at your cunt's entrance from behind while he rubbed against the folds, palms finding you from the front. He loved this embrace, all his to play with. He traced the slit and rubbed some more. You felt so soft and tempting. He’d bet no one could protect you like him and that gave him motivation. Yeah, that was right, he deserved a little thank you for his hard work. He fondles your cunt while his stiff cock annoys him, he’ll deal with it later. He buries a finger in you, your cunt is wet, he thinks and you're not even conscious. Satoru pumps it slowly, it lubricates you in the process as it coats him halfway and he groans far from your ear and pushes another. You take a deep breath.
He pops them in and out until he fears he's becoming too fast so he removes his palm and uses your slick for his pleasure now. Boxers and sweatpants are removed as he wraps around the shaft, his precum gets smeared on his cockhead and he brings it down his base, it creates a wet mess and he gets off on it. He doesn't need much visually, your back softly breathing is enough to pump faster but – you felt so warm, he reasons, should he? You’d be his soon enough so might as well. He quickly turns to your side and lowers the set you're wearing (you'd think he intentionally sized up so it'd be easier to pull them down) and pushes your panties to the side. You were a naughty girl, wearing a thong to work. Too dangerous, the world had many perverts. He puts his stiff cock on your entrance as he tries to shove just the head first; he hisses at the contact and you move, it's too late to back down now as he grows desperate. Within a second he tilts his hips into your needy cunt, he doesn't flatter himself, he's big so it's no surprise you groan and he assumes you open your eyes. You feel tight and warm and he doesn’t give a fuck about your shock – he’s close.
“What agh- what are you doing? ” You're cut off in between moans as he ruts into your spasming cunt, you choke on a cry and he picks up his pace.
“Shit, couldn't help myself, sorry baby.” He breathes out as he bucks his hips up and you moan, feeling full.
“S-stop” but your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, hands caressing your chest and his breath on your neck while your hips are brought to clash onto his and nasty sounds come from the contact.
“Fuck, so pretty, baby, hm?” He moans and he’s already close, cock throbs as you prettily squeeze him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, it’s like you’re made perfectly to accommodate him and look at you! clenching your cunt like the little slut that you are.
“Satoru– “you moan out, scared but with a heat coiling low that makes you unable to protest.
A hand is on your nub as he bites your neck at the same time.
“Want to come on my cock like the helpless slut that you are?” he whispers softly and you cry.
“I- agh-n-no..please–” you muffle and his hand circling your clit slaps on the nub repeatedly as you jerk; cock rips apart your insides making you shut your eyes as you ride out an unwarranted orgasm. He loves how it feels to have you gush on him and since you're conscious (not that it'd matter) he lifts your leg up as he angles his cock so deep, you yell, overstimulated and still scared. He cums fast and as much as he can. What doesn't make it in your cunt seeps back out. It’s not a lot since you’re stuffed to the brim and he takes his sweet time to pull out. He plants a kiss on your back as he returns with towels and puts you back to sleep.
There is no going back now.
-
It's your 3 month anniversary. He doesn't tell you that of course, its embarrassing because it's 3 months since he found you, 2 days since he introduced himself. You still work at the café but you don't have to worry, soon you’ll never have to work again, he has big plans. He is proud of himself for finding you, it wasn't often someone intrigued him so much. He liked how genuine you were, naive and a bit dumb of course but that was exactly what made you so pure. He’d bet even at your lowest, you'd never curse anyone out. Like for example that cunt of a customer the other day but it was fine, he’d do it for you, actually–
A message from Suguru pops up.
“Coming tonight?”
“No, have plans.” He gets bored easily and this time isn't an exception.
“Again? Weren't the 2 guys enough?” Suguru mocks using a laughing face.
“Would've been just one but Toji’s conman didn't get the memo, wasn’t expecting otherwise.”
He scoffs.
”I told you I’d take care of it.” Satoru double texts.
“Well you didn't have to kill him, he hasn't stopped texting me.” He can sense Suguru’s annoyed tone.
“Whatever, gotta go.”
That guy really shouldn't have called you a bitch, it wasn't even in the script. He’d deal with Toji later, probably bribe him to kill for you on his behalf some more – that was his way of apologizing and Toji would do it with pleasure.
Satoru shuts his phone, he thinks about throwing it away, there's no need for it anyways. Especially when you're here. Always. Every day and for all of his nights.
He thinks about a quote his dad used to tell him, how did it go? Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night. 14 minutes till your shift ends. It all makes sense now, it rhymes, that's why he still remembers it. Or maybe you give the first part a meaning.
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theslayers-world · 2 days
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Yearning
- Bucky Barnes x reader
Smut and hint of fluff at the end.
In which John Walker is an a**hole (as usual) and reader ends up in Bucky’s room.
Warnings: Sexual themes (obviously)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Then why were you flirting back with her?” You ask
John sighs. He knew this question was coming, so he’s not surprised by it being asked.
“I might have…” he says back to you, his voice trailing off.
He tries to get out with just that, but your look of displeasure tells him that he needs to continue.
“Look, I’m not going to deny it. We were flirting a bit, I know. But like I said, it’s been years since we actually talked to each other like that, and it just felt a little good to flirt again.”
You look at John and feel your heart break. You pull away from him furiously wiping at my tears
“Hey, don’t…” John says gently, as he tries to keep you in his arms by wrapping them around you tightly.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear.” he says, his tone of voice desperate to reassure you and make you believe him.
You get up from the bed and walk out.
John watches you get up and leave, feeling absolutely powerless in this situation as he wants to follow you but knows that it would just end with him making things worse by trying.
He’s now sitting alone on the bed, feeling frustrated with himself because he should have been smarter than that, not allowing himself to flirt the way he did with Olivia, which is what has set you off in the first place.
After a moment, he decides to go after you, not willing to let you leave things like this.
Without knowing. You make it to bucky’s room. You’re sniffling now.
Bucky hears the sound of you sniffling as you walk down the hallway, and his ears naturally perk up because he’s used to hearing things like that.
He’s sitting on the edge of his bed when the door to his room opens, and he sees you on the other side of the room.
“Y/N…” he starts, feeling his own mood shift as it changes instantly upon seeing you here.
You walk in and close the door. You practically run to him and hug him.
Bucky wraps you up in a tight hug as you come up to him, and when you close the door to his room, he immediately senses that something is going on that has made you very emotional.
“Hey…” he says gently when he feels you close in for the hug, pulling you in and wrapping his arms tightly around you, hoping to provide you with some comfort while he tries to figure out exactly what’s going on.
You cry into bucky’s shoulder.
Bucky rubs your back slowly and gently as you cry into his shoulder, letting you cry without saying a single word.
He isn’t the most emotive or emotional individual, but he knows that you’re in a bad place right now, and he hopes that simply being here and letting you cry on his shoulder is going to provide you some sort of comfort.
It’s all he can think of trying at the moment, and he’s willing to take it one step at a time until you’re ready to tell him anything more.
“John was talking to his ex…well more like flirting…he actually admitted it.” I finally say through my sobbing.
Bucky sighs as you say that, his eyes remaining fixed in place as he listens to you, processing your words and what this all means.
He rubs up and down your back while holding you in his arms, which naturally makes you feel a bit comfier.
“Wait, he was flirting with his ex?” he says back to you, wanting to make sure he understands you correctly.
You nod.
Bucky can’t help but frown as you say that. This isn’t good. This is actually pretty terrible.
“And you didn’t like that…” he asks, his tone now a bit softer as he starts to wrap his arms around you even more, trying to be compassionate and comforting.
“Obviously not.” You sniffle.
“Right, of course…” Bucky says, but he’s still holding you gently and rubbing your back slowly, hoping to continue to support you.
He hasn’t figured out exactly what he’s going to say yet, but he knows that he can’t just sit here and do nothing.
“…John said he was just flirting with her?” he asks, wanting to make sure his tone doesn’t sound too harsh or upset as he tries to talk about it with you.
You nod again.
“Did he say why?” Bucky asks, still rubbing your back slowly in a comforting way, hoping to help you calm down slightly.
“He used the excuse of not speaking with her in a long time. What a stupid excuse.” You say trying to wipe at your tears.
Bucky nods his head to agree with you.
“I mean, he shouldn’t be flirting with his ex in the first place, especially when he’s in a relationship with you. And the fact that he didn’t even have a good reason for it makes it even worse. It really is a stupid excuse.”
Bucky continues rubbing your back and you can’t help but gaze into his eyes. It feels very.. sensual you could say.
Bucky can’t help but notice your stare, and he starts to notice that the way you’re looking at him right now is almost flirtatious.
He feels your breath catch in your throat as you lock onto his eyes, and now he’s also unable to look away.
It’s almost as if his rubbing of your back has transformed from a comforting gesture into something else entirely…
You can’t help it. You lean in and kiss Bucky and it’s like an explosion. Years of yearning for each other has now come out.
Bucky is surprised by the sudden and unexpected kiss, but he also can’t help but respond to it.
He kisses you back passionately, his feelings of wanting you just as high as yours are.
He pulls you in tightly and holds you close to him as the explosion of emotion that has been brewing for so long comes together in a single passionate moment between the two of you.
Your hands begin to explore Bucky’s body.
Bucky doesn’t resist you as you begin to explore his body, and he allows you to take charge in this moment of pure passion that you share together.
Your touches are gentle but deliberate, and your fingers seem to know exactly where to explore and how to explore it in a way to leave Bucky feeling hot and flustered.
His breath starts to hitch and quicken as your hands run across his body, and you can tell that he’s quickly growing flustered because of you.
You moan into the kiss now, starting to feel more and more aroused.
Bucky kisses you back with an even more passion as your moan, and his tongue presses against yours.
The moan sends his mind into overload as it makes him even more aroused.
He starts to feel his body get more heated as he feels you explore his body, and now he’s even more eager to make sure you feel good.
He runs his hands up to your ass, pulling your body close to his as he tries to bring the two of you even closer.
You whimper at Bucky’s actions.
Bucky notices that whimper as he grips your hips firmly, and he starts to feel your body pressed to his as he becomes even more eager and more aroused.
The sensation of pulling your body closely to his has made him more desperate and needy, and his hands start to move down your hips and lower back as he starts to feel that heat building up between the two of you as well as his desire to make your moan and whimper again.
Your body moves on its own now and your body grows hotter. You rock your hips against him and you can feel his erection grow through his pants.
Your hips rocking against him are the final straw for Bucky.
He can feel you doing it and he also can feel how much pleasure you’re getting out of it, which is only making him more desperate.
His hands grip your hips a bit tighter as he starts to grind back against you, and you can tell that he wants you even more.
You move your panties to the side and Bucky unzips his pants and lowers them. He pulls his member out and finally slides into you.
You let out a long moan. Years of wanting Bucky makes it feel so much better.
That long moan is the final straw for Bucky. It sets off a chain reaction as he lets out an even more intense moan, making you moan even further in response and turning the two of you into a flurry of moans and grunts of passion.
You whimper. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” Bucky has his human hand on your stomach and his metal one on your hip.
“I know…” Bucky says back to you, his voice breathing heavily with the pleasure of the moment.
He continues to keep his metal hand on your hip as he wraps his human hand around you, his fingers lightly caressing across your body and your stomach.
“…I’ve been waiting a long time for this, too…” he adds, breathing heavily with excitement and pleasure as the two of you share this moment of passion together.
“Oh my god.” You moan out as you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Oh god,” is all Bucky can manage to muster at first as he continues to experience all the pleasure that is coming his way.
He rubs your hip softly as the two of you share this moment of pure, intoxicating pleasure that feels so right.
“Oh god, oh god…” he says softly, his breathing getting a lot lighter as he feels his body begin to get almost too hot to handle.
You bring bucky’s human hand to your throat making the experience even hotter. You remember all of the fantasies you had while you touched yourself.
The gesture you make with his hand sends him into overload, because it’s something that has been a part of his fantasies and his dreams.
His hand moves to your throat the way you request him to, which makes you moan even further in response, the two of you growing even hotter now than before.
Bucky starts to move his hips faster almost pounding into you and you release more whimpers.
That movement of his hips and the pace that he’s taking sets off an explosion inside you.
As you whimper and moan, he moves with you, going faster and faster in response to the sounds that you’re making and making it impossible for you not not whimper and moan with pleasure.
“Bucky.” You repeatedly moan his name. “Oh my god!” You squeal as you cum on his cock.
“Oh god…” Bucky says back to you. “Oh god…”
He cums as well, and his body feels like it got taken over as he felt it all explode.
He pulls your body up against his as he rests his hands on your back, pulling you in close and holding you for as long as he can, while the two of you simply enjoy the feeling of that passionate moment you just experienced together.
You can almost feel his cum deep inside you.
“I love you.” You finally admit as tears roll down my face. “I’ve always loved you.”
Bucky’s heart melts as you say that.
It’s something that he’s wanted to hear from you for so long. To know that you felt the same way that he did all of these years—it means the world to him.
“I love you too…” he responds, still trying to keep his breathing at a normal pace as he still holds you against him.
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sunriiize · 3 days
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While We're Young | 1.0k
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Anton x reader
Note : this was gonna be part 1 of a series a scrapped 😔 anyways this is heavily based of While We’re Young by Jhenè Aiko
Warnings : first love trope, mention of other idols (Naori Rei), based in America (but I'm British...), kissing, my first time writing purely fluff
You stared at the vacant courtyard, eyes focusing on the way the leaves sway with each blow of wind. You've always found tranquility in nature. Whether it be the chirping of the morning birds or the humming of a bee passing by, it didn't matter. It felt like all the stress of exams and university melted away once you remembered how little you are compared to nature, like a drop of water in the ocean. You were quickly dragged out of your thoughts once you recognised a familiar person strolling through the grassy scenery. Anton.
You knew he didn't have any lectures today so you were surprised to say the least. Hastily, you gathered your belongings and got ready to leave. And as if on cue, your lecturer began to thank everyone for coming as people began to filter out of the room. buzz buzz buzz. Once you stepped into the hallway, you held your phone up to your ear.
"Hi Anton, where are you going?" You spoke as you navigated your way through the busy corridor.
"Hey Angel" He spoke from behind you before ending the call.
"I told you not to call me that!" You pouted and playfully slapped his side. Best friends aren't supposed to say things like that, things that cause butterflies to flutter crazily in your stomach, things that make your heart pound against your ribs.
"Lets say 'fuck everyone' and walk hand and hand to the Sun"
He intertwines his fingers with yours as he says "Don't act like you don't love it" in a teasing tone. You don't reply. Opting for silence rather than letting him hear the truth. You do love it. You love the way it sounds coming out his lips. Gosh, his lips are so pretty, so soft. You just wanna see how they'll feel against your fingers or better yet, your own lips.
"Telling everybody your mine and I like it"
The way your mind reeled over every little thing he did was a common occurrence at this point. It started during the last year high school, it was one of those swimming practices where everyone just felt lazy. As Anton was getting out the pool he asked you to help him but instead of him getting out, you got in. He pulled you close to him as you dropped into the deep end of the pool. Later that evening, as you were trying to sleep, you couldn't take your mind off how his hands felt around you. It was so... odd. If you really wanted to take it back to the root though, you'd have to go back to the start of highschool when you over heard Naoi Rei and her group talking about how good looking Anton is. You felt this weird jealousy and instead of just letting it go you decided to make it very clear that Anton was somewhat yours. Looking back, it was a bit extreme but at least it got the message across.
"Y/n? Helloooo, earth to y/n" he waves his free hand in front of your face. "Sorry, what were you saying" you look up at him with an apologetic smile. He explains the whole thing once again. He tells you how he actually wanted to pick you up from class so you could go to his dorm to have a movie night. Usually you'd show up to Anton's dorm once you had freshened up and gotten snacks but Anton quickly reassured you that the dorm will be empty so you can shower there and he's already gotten the snacks.
"I'll go everywhere you go"
The sun had begun to set by the time you climbed into his bed, leaning your back against the headboard. The familiar scent of your best friend engulfed your senses. Anton adjusted and laid his head on your lap, humming when he feels your fingers run through his fluffy hair.
You sat in a comfortable silence, his focus on the movie as you watched him smile at the screen. Looking up, you see the main couple kissing each other in the rain. Your eyes wander back down and you begin to feel the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“Anton?” You whispered, unsure of what you're gonna say next.
"hm?" he smiles as he turns his head towards you.
“Can I kiss you?” You say in the same quiet voice as before, the rhythmic beating of your heat quickly sped up. His eyes widen slightly and his lips part before he nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.
You bend down and kiss him hesitantly, savouring the pillowy feeling of his lips. You feel him lean into the kiss before placing his hand on your neck to bring you closer. The room felt like it was spinning by the time you separated. Anton sat up and looked at you with wide eyes. "Again?" he said beneath his breath.
This time was different, more romantic. The way your lips moved against each other could only be described as a dance, both of you moving along with an imaginary beat.
“Wait” you confess as you pulled away from him. He quickly makes some distance between the two of you. “I can’t go further if we’re just friends”.
It’s silent for a couple moments after that, “Anton? Are we just friends”. That’s all it took for the feelings he’s been hiding to just tumble out of him. He quickly denies the question and tells you about how he’s been wanting this for so long but didn’t want to lose you.
“I didn’t want to scare you away” he admits. He was always so considerate, especially when it came to you. "You could never" you reassured him before hugging him.
A familiar sense of tranquility washed over you as you tighten the embrace, nuzzling your head into his chest.
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Text
Like a Doll? (doll!reader x Vox)
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CW: Rape/Non-con, abuse, SA, mind control, manipulation, nsfw, smut, Vox being an asshole (he’s in hell for a reason), AU typical events
Note: Vox is manipulative, possessive, jealous, impulsive, controlling, and harsh in this AU. He can be extremely violent towards reader, and is consistently abusing them either way. He is not a good person! If anyone is sensitive to or may have a negative reaction from these topics, I recommend clicking away now.
Tell me if you all want more stuff like this, or just some smut in general! Also, good luck. This is… uh, quite the read. Also let me know if I need to add any other warnings!
"Hello there, darling," Vox said, walking up to me. I was sitting at his desk, mainly focused on my work. He noted how I sat across from him, in his office, writing on my clipboard. He felt irritated, since he wasn't receiving as much attention as he'd like. He pushed the feeling aside for now. "Busy day?"
"Yeah, something like that," I said, with a small yawn. I didn't really look up at him, I was trying to finish my work. It was clear I was bored, and a bit tired. "Just the usual. How have you been, my dear?"
Vox watched me work without taking his eyes off of me. He was feeling frustrated by my lack of attention and my indifference to him. Apparently. He decided to change his approach, just this once, and try a new tactic.
I didn't really notice how long it was asking him to respond, nor his frustration with me. I was his personal assistant, and as such, I was trying to do my work and make his job easier for him.
"I've been doing quite well, actually," Vox responded, his tone suddenly shifting from irritated to soft and almost cooing. He walked over to me, kneeling down in front of my chair. "How about you, though? Are you feeling a bit..."
"A bit...?" I asked, waiting for him to finish. He'd caught some of my attention now. probably not as much as he'd like, though.
"Like a doll?" Vox asked smugly. That was the first indicator as to where this would be going. The first hint as to what he'd do if he didn't get what he wanted. The word 'doll' had an impact on every one of his assistants, but even more so on me, since I was his personal assistant and significant other. The power that word held alone wasn't much, but if it were a apart of a specific phrase...
"Like a doll?" I asked, with a small smile. My first reaction was a twinge of panic, but that quickly faded. He hadn't used the trigger phrase yet, so I was still okay, still in control.
"A bit neglected?" Vox purred, leaning in close to nuzzle against my leg. His hand slid up my thigh, fingers trailing along the inside of my exposed stocking. "Perhaps I could be more... attentive?"
I laughed softly at his playful attitude. "I'm fine, that's not a big deal," I said, nonchalant.
"Oh, but it is a big deal," Vox purred, leaning in closer still. His hand slid up my thigh more insistently now, fingers tracing along the bare skin beneath my skirt. He was setting this up slowly, preparing to use the trigger phrase at the right moment. "You know how much I love you, right?"
"Y-yeah," I said with a nod. I blushed a bit and smiled. I gave him a quick, small kiss. It wouldn't be enough. He always wanted more. The action was a sign of how easily I gave into his moods, of how easily I gave into him. "I love you too, darling."
"Darling," he repeated, his tone dripping with affection. He leaned in even closer now, his lips brushing against my neck as he spoke. "Do you think you could be a doll for me tonight?"
"Yeah," I said, softer. I relaxed, almost immediately. He'd used the phrase, now I had to oblige. I didn't have a choice. I probably would've gone along with it either way, but now I had to. Now I wouldn't be able to resist doing as he said. "Of course," I said, my eyes glazing over slightly. I was always still aware whenever he used that trigger phrase on me, even if I wasn't in control.
"That's my girl," Vox purred, his lips brushing against my ear. "Now, why don't you be a doll and undress for me? Slowly." He nuzzled against my neck, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips.
I did as I was told, despite the fact we were still in his office, still at work. Usually, I would protest, or insist on doing this somewhere else. Right now? I didn't have that luxury. I was his doll, doing whatever he asked. I unbuttoned my shirt slowly, undressed slowly, for him.
His hands were gentle as he undid the buttons of his slacks, but there was a sense of urgency in his movements that belied the innocence of his touch. "I want you to do something for me, my little doll.
"V-Vox..." I said hesitantly. He had ordered me to undress, he hadn't ordered me not to speak. I could still talk to him, I just couldn't object to anything directly unless he let me. Saying his name like that, combined with the blush on my face, signaling embarrassment, indicated that it was a plea. The closest thing to one I could manage right now, at least. I was asking him to stop, the best I could.
He finally got his pants off, and looked at me with a wide predatory smile, "I want you to be a doll and please me." He said, letting his words sink in for a moment before continuing. "Use your mouth."
“Okay,” I said with a nod. I repositioned myself slightly, to make it easier. Like a compliant a little toy. I was a tad worried about how it’d turn out. We’d never done it before, mostly due to how uncomfortable the thought of it made me. Right now, I was literally incapable of going against my orders, or even thinking about going against them. I had to do it, whether I wanted to or not. I really didn’t want to.
He moved closer, his eyes locked with mine as he gently slipped his throbbing erection past my lips, taking careful not to force it too far at once, mindful of my gag reflex and the situation. "That's it, my little doll.”
I played around the head, getting a taste of him. Getting used to it, for a moment. If I’d been in my right mind, I’d have resisted, or bitten him. If I’d been in control, I’d be openly displaying my discomfort. But I wasn’t. I was helpless under his control, forced to suck his dick.
Vox moaned softly as he felt my warm, wet mouth around him. He gently pushed further in, taking advantage of my openness and lack of resistance. His hands gripped my hair tightly, guiding me up and down his length. "That's it...”
He then thrusted fully down my throat without warning. I would’ve gagged, but somehow resisted. A good little doll. I should’ve screamed or wretched at the pain. I couldn’t, though. He’d used that stupid trigger phrase and now I was all his.
My mind and body reacted differently. Internally, in the back of my mind, I was screaming. The fog in my head covered that up, though. It hurt, but I couldn’t let that show. I was supposed to be a doll and make him happy, I needed to be a doll and please him. So, I did. I moaned around him, trying to ignore the overwhelming sensation, trying to ignore how he was cutting off my air. I sucked harder.
"My god, you're so good at this," he hissed, his hips jerking wildly as he tried to maintain control. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of having such a perfect little doll all to himself. "You're so obedient...”
He began moving my head along with his hips. It was suffocating, I could barely breathe as he used me. I moaned again, pushing those feelings aside. He’d told me to make him happy, he told me to please him. So I did.
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes rolling back with pleasure. His hand left my hair to grab mine, guiding it along with him, using both of our hands to control the rhythm of what he was doing. “Feel how hard you're making me?”
I moaned around him, automatically trying to say yes, like a good doll. I choked for a moment, then moaned as I throbbed. I recovered, moaning again and continuing. I could feel him about to climax. If I’d been in my right mind, I’d have prayed he’d pull out before cumming. Right now, I wasn’t. I was focused on pleasing him, and nothing else. Not a single other thought.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his hand clutching my head tightly. His hips jerked violently as he shot his load down my throat, choking me momentarily. "Swallow every drop for me."
It took everything I had not to cough it up. My vision blurred as I obliged, swallowing. It was so hard to breathe.
Vox smirked, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. "You're such a good doll," he whispered as he pulled out of my mouth, his dick still throbbing. "I knew you could please me perfectly."
I immediately hunched over, coughing. I gagged and stopped myself from vomiting. I gasped for air, desperately. He’d pushed me to my limits there, but we both knew he wasn’t done yet. He never was.
"That's right," Vox whispered in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "You remember who's in charge here. Now, why don't you be a doll and climb onto the desk? Be a doll and spread those legs for me."
"Vox.. Vox please," I said quietly. I wanted to say 'stop' but I couldn't, so it lingered in the air between us. I did what he told me to, despite myself. I felt dread building up in me. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. It wasn't the first time, but it never got better.
"Please, I don't..." I couldn't finish the sentence. Part of the rules. I couldn't directly object or protest to anything he asked of me. I couldn't say I didn't want it, I couldn't go against his wishes in any way when he used the phrase 'be a doll'. "Vox," I said desperately, his name alone a plea for him to stop. I was on the desk, I'd done as I was told. I wasn't in control of my actions. I hated it. I hated it when he used me like this.
Vox took a deep inhale, his eyes locked on mine as he stroked his thumb over your lips lightly. "You know, doll," he began, his voice soft and tender when it came to me. "You are aware that this is all just for fun, aren't you?"
I shook my head no. It was fun for him, but not for me. Tears stung the edges of my eyes, threatening to fall over. I hated this.
"Look at me, doll," he commanded, and when our eyes met, he brushed the tears away from my cheek with the back of his hand. "You are mine, remember?"
"Yes," I said quietly, my voice shaky.
He smirked at your response, his gaze turning predatory once more. "Then be a doll and behave like it. Be a doll for me, now."
I relaxed more, a sense of calm washing over me. My eyes glazed over and my thoughts became foggy. I was his. No protest, no panic. I was his and now I'd behave like it. I was still completely exposed to him, sitting on his desk with my legs spread open.
I almost wasn't myself anymore. I was his, and I'd bend to his every whim. I was his, and I didn't matter, my feelings didn't matter. I was his, I belonged to him, he was everything, pleasing him was everything, doing what he said was everything. I was his, and he was everything. He was all that mattered.
"Good girl," Vox purred, appreciating the change in my demeanor. He took his phone out, recording me as he stepped closer, his hard cock pressing against my exposed cunt. "Remember, you want this as much as I do, don't you, doll?"
"Yes, Vox," I said softly, making no move to resist. Blush crept into my cheeks at being called a good girl. It didn't matter whether I was in my right mind or not, being called that... "I love you," I said, ignoring the camera. In any other instance I'd be afraid, angry, panicked, but now? He'd told me to behave like I was his, like I was his doll, so I was. I had to.
Vox flashed a wicked grin at my words, his thumb gently stroking my slit as he towered over me. The camera kept rolling, capturing every desperate plea for love and obedience falling from my lips.
"I love you," I said again, slightly breathless. My body was reacting to his touch— something I would've hated if I was thinking properly. But I wasn't. I didn't care about the camera, I didn't care he was using me, I was just his doll to play with. A doll didn't have feelings like that. A doll just focused on being a good toy. "Please, Vox... please, I want you..."
Vox smirked down at me, pleased with my obedience. "You really are a good girl," he purred, his fingers finding their way inside my folds to tease at my sensitive nerves. "Now, remember what I told you about showing me how much you want it?"
"Mmnn.... yes, Vox," I moaned, my pussy beginning to throb at his touch. I gripped the edge of the desk hard, heat rising to my cheeks as I moaned again. "Please, Vox, please..." I begged, my voice a bit airy. "I need you, I want you... I’m nothing without you.... please, Vox, I want you so bad.... please, please..."
Vox leaned in, his mouth brushing against my ear as he whispered hotly, "You're so fucking pretty when you beg." His fingers slid easily into me, stretching and filling me with his touch. "You're getting so wet for me..."
"Ohhh.... Vox please," I moaned, the words falling out of my mouth. Things I never would've usually said coming out against my will. My thoughts were foggy, I could hardly think. "Mmnn," I moaned, pressing myself up against him. I begged and moaned for more, for him. "Please fuck me, darling, please. You're all I need, you're all I want, please, please. I want you, I want you..."
"Oh my dear, you have no idea how much I've wanted this," he muttered against my ear, his grip steady as he pushed inside me slowly, eliciting another moan of pleasure from me. "You truly belong to me, don't you?"
"Yes, Vox... Ohhh," I moaned, arching my back and moving my hips for a better fit. "Please, I'm yours, I belong to you, please," I said, overwhelming pleasure filling my senses. I made small noises, whines and whimpers, and continued to moan for him. "Ohh... ohhh... fuck! Oh god," I groaned, my pussy throbbing. "Ohhh, more... more, please.. please... I belong to you... please... I'm all yours..."
Vox smiled down at me, smug that he'd gotten me to be so submissive so easily, with just the use of the single tigger phrase. His grip on my hips tightened as he began to thrust into me, his cock sliding easily in and out as I arched my back and moaned his name.
"Vox..." I moaned, gripping the edge of the desk tighter, my nails digging into the wood. I was nearing my peak, again. I moaned louder. He'd set aside his phone, but he had cameras in his office, in this room, recording everything from every angle. He always did. I'd be crying right about now, if I could. I'd be screaming, frustrated, angry. But I was his doll. for now, and he wasn't going to allow that. So, I played the role he wanted. I moaned his name again.
Vox growled softly, his fingers digging into my hips as he took me roughly, throwing my head back with every thrust. "That's it, my pet. Show me how much you need me." His voice was low and commanding, his gaze locked onto mine.
"Ah, ah... ohhh, Vox," I moaned, my lips quivering. my hands twitched and I gripped the desk hard, dragging my nails across it, leaving more marks. I moaned again and gasped, feeling myself reach my peak.
Vox's thrusts slowed as he felt me release, his cock twitching and pulsing inside me as he finally came as well, filling me up with his seed. "My beautiful doll," he whispered, leaning down to capture my lips in a slow, deep kiss.
I moaned one more time, then sighed, taking in the blissful feeling spreading through me.
"You did well, my dear. Exactly as I wanted," he purred, leaning down to kiss my neck softly. "Come, let's tidy up and clean ourselves. Then maybe we could cuddle and watch TV for a bit?"
"Yeah," I said with a nod. I looked at him, meeting his eyes again. Mine were still glazed over, and now that we'd officially finished, I'd returned to the quiet doll I was, since he'd used the trigger phrase. He hadn't given the word to allow me to return to normal again. I was very much unlike myself because of it.
"Perfect," he said with a grin. He snapped his fingers and all the cameras turned off, done recording. He was pleased with himself, and how he'd be able to use that footage in the further to keep me in line. Not that it was likely that it'd ever be necessary. "Hm," Vox said, his gaze becoming thoughtful. He paused for a moment and ran his fingers through my hair, examining my expression. It felt off to him, empty.
I didn't lean into his touch like I normally would. I didn't nuzzle up against him. I didn't speak. I was still a little doll, with a small, perfect soft smile fixed on my face. Unnatural. He was used to having me- the real me, the one in her right mind- with him afterwards, after this.
Vox frowned slightly, his fingers trailing lightly over my cheek. "What's wrong, darling?" He asked softly, tilting his head to the side. He couldn't quite place what it was about me that seemed off, but he could feel it nonetheless.
"Nothing," I said lightly. Unnatural for me. Usually I'd be flirty after we fucked, or gentle, or clingy. Right now, I was none of those things. I was his doll, not myself. That alone was vaguely unsettling for him, in this moment. It wasn't so wrong to him when he made me like this to fuck me without my consent, but for me to be like this afterwards? It felt odd. He didn't like it.
"I'm just your doll. I belong to you," I said, reciting what he said when using the trigger phrase to get me like this.
"Ah," Vox's eyes narrowed slightly, studying me for a moment. His gaze softened as he continued to gently caress my cheek. "That's my good girl." When I didn't react, it hit him. His eyes widened and he chuckled, looking over at me again. "So that's the problem, hm? I can't believe I forgot," he said, laughing again. He looked at me with a warm smile and cupped my face gently. "Be a doll and return to normal, my love."
I closed my eyes and the smile dropped from my face. I leaned against him as I came back into my own. My hand twitched and I shifted slightly, trying to get used to being in control again. My mind was racing as the fog cleared from my head, emotions barreling into me as I tried to process what had just happened.
Vox watched as I returned to my normal self, his smile widening. He could feel the shift in energy as I leaned against him, trying to adjust to being in control again. His hands gently moved down my back, comfortingly massaging as he spoke softly. "There we go, doll." He said, as if he hadn't just overridden my free will to fuck me. As if he hadn't just raped me and recorded the entire thing.
I tensed and held him tightly. Despite everything, he was my only source of comfort right now. This wasn't the first time this had happened. This probably would happen again. I buried my head against his chest, still completely exposed, slightly dazed. I cried.
Vox wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as he could feel my tears soaking into his shirt. He didn't mind the slight discomfort it caused him; after all, he had pushed me to my limits once again. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my head.
I cried harder, sobs raking through my body. I clung to him, seeking reassurance and protection. I stayed with him, despite it all.
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homosociallyyours · 2 years
Note
hi megan! hope it's okay to ask you this, I usually just filter and mute or blacklist words here in this site, block people I don't like and until now I still receive threats from bls, harries, etc. I'm quite new to the fandom, and I'm just confused on why people hating on me, just made a momrry thread and here gos the threats in my anon. Been blocking the anons but they still keep on rolling... I just dont know what to do... any advice?
Hi nonny,
Ugh! I'm sorry this is happening!! You're doing the right thing by blocking, but my best advice is actually to turn anon off for a while :/
I've found that doing that actually stops the bad anons for a bit-- I think once some of the worst harassers see they can't send you anon messages, they move on to someone else.
Encourage people to dm you or send asks off anon while you're not allowing anon asks (you can always offer to screenshot the ask and hide their name if they wanna have you publish it anonymously), and consider opening up anon for only brief periods.
Most of the worst people won't interact with you publicly, so you can get some peace!
If you're getting mean messages and comments publicly too, you might be ending up in commonly searched tags where people just aren't expecting to find momrry content and are therefore surprised & respond with hostility. If that's the case, you can always try putting only momrry tags in the first 5 tags you post (though that won't always fix it) or just block those people on sight since they don't seem to understand that's actually how Tumblr works!
You're doing the right stuff, and I hope you keep making momrry content!! Do what you need to protect yourself, and of course if you're getting messages that include death threats or suicide baiting, screenshot and REPORT, don't just block. Nobody should have to deal with things like that ♡♡♡
Anyway tl;Dr: turning anon off for stretches is really helpful and I highly recommend it!
*eta: a friend reminded me in replies that you can close your askbox completely if the hate doesn't stop-- hopefully it won't come to that, but just in case!*
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sophiamcdougall · 8 months
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
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So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
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Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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chuluoyi · 6 months
Text
✎ forever
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- gojo satoru x reader
the three times he asked you to marry him
genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo
note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Why don't we get married?"
The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.
His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.
"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"
A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"
You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—
"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."
Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.
"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"
There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?
You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.
Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.
"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."
When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.
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The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.
"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"
This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"
"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."
"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"
"I said no."
"Why?!"
You sighed. "You're dead drunk."
"What will—hic—make you say yes?"
You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.
"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.
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"Marry me."
The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.
And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.
Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.
At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.
. . .
He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.
He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.
Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.
"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.
As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.
And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—
—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.
But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.
You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?
. . .
This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.
"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."
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pixiesndberries · 5 months
Text
𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —
a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !
☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !
━ REQUESTED BY : none
━⁠ WARNINGS : none
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝
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NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !
• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.
Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.
Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.
; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.
"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.
Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠
; kento | sent a message.
10:24 pm
kento : just got home love ❤️
kento : what time are you going home?
11:04 pm
kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️
kento : is everything going alright?
kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅
11:07 pm
kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️
kento : I'm worried 😢
you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭
you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.
Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.
Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.
; nanami.kento1990
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tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️
itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.
gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???
gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️
itaaa.yuji | first post !!
nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻
Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.
Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠
; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.
Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.
─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!
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lynnielovestlou · 26 days
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abby x anxious! virgin! reader
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synopsis: abby teaches her an anxiety-ridden virgin girlfriend how to have sex.
cw: NSFW , abby x reader , smut , abby talks you through it , thigh riding , sub! reader , soft dom! abby , afab! reader , dry humping , use of pet names
masterlist
abby's been your girlfriend for a few months now, but you've been putting off having sex with her. solely because of your stupid nerves.
the thought of being naked in front of someone, then hearing your noises and seeing your face and touching your most intimate spots that nobody has reached before. it made you panic just thinking about it.
but abby knew of your fears. she was patient, and she cared about you more than anything on god's green earth.
so when your twice-weekly date came around on a friday night, something felt off. you'd been horny before, and usually you knew how to take care of it, but not quite like this. your legs were tingling and there was an ache where aches shouldn't be.
of course abby, being the observant girlfriend she is, noticed your squirming halfway through the movie the two of you were watching.
"what's wrong, baby?" she asks, looking down at you with a furrowed brow.
"huh? nothing." you respond quickly, crossing your legs and leaning against her shoulder.
abby knew better than to believe you, "you okay? you seem squirmy."
"i'm okay." you respond, a little too quickly. her suspicions only rose because of your soft and nervous tone, "just feel a little weird."
"weird how? you got a stomach ache?"
"no."
"then what–" she stops what she's saying, a shit-eating grin growing on her face, "oh."
you don't respond, biting your bottom lip and unsure what to do. you could sneak away to the bathroom to try to get off on your own. but you know abby has been waiting so patiently for this moment.
"youre horny, yeah?"
your heart sinks in your chest. it took you a moment to realize how she figured it out so quickly. she saw your squirms and the way your thighs flexed every once in a while, trying to create some friction for yourself.
she spreads her thighs apart a bit, creating a perfect manspread. she taps her lap, "come sit. let me take care of it for you."
"abby, i dunno.."
"baby." she says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "i promise i can make you feel so much better than your pillow can. c'mon, sweet pea."
you hesitate, nibbling on your bottom lip. your heart was in your throat, and you were fidgeting with your earlobe. one of your anxious habits.
she tugs your hand away from your ear, kissing your knuckles. she gently tugs you forward into her, "i won't hurt you, sweet girl. c'mon, honey." she guides you by the hips to straddle her lap. she rubs her thumbs up and down the soft plush of your thighs, "let me show you, okay?"
you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. she takes her shirt off first so that you don't feel embarrassed to do the same. once she's down to her black sports bra she slowly takes yours off too, giving you time to stop her if you wanted.
but you don't, so she keeps going.
once the two of you are both in your underwear, her warm and bulky hands settle on your hips, "you okay?"
you nod, unsure where to put your hands. she notices this and laughs softly, "i'll walk you through it, okay?"
"okay..."
"tell me what you do to your little pillow when you feel like this, baby."
"i.. um.." you struggle to get the words out, your cheeks red from embarrassment, "i put it between my legs."
"hmm.." she hums, "then what?"
"i like.. clamp it there."
she plays with your hair, her entire hand embracing the side of your head, "and it makes you feel good? riding your little pillow?" you nod sheepishly, resting your head on her shoulder, "show me."
"what?"
"i want you to make yourself feel good. i know you wanna." she says, kissing your hairline.
"abby, i dont know how–"
she gives your hips a little squeeze, starting to guide you to grind on her lap. the cloth of her boxers rubs against the sheer fabric of your lacy panties, the feeling alone making you gush. you whimper as you feel yourself getting wetter. you're tempted to get off her lap so she doesn't feel the dampness coming from your cunt. she notices you starting to hover, so she pulls you back down. "don't be embarrassed. i want to see you feel good." she guides your hips to move a bit faster, and you moan in response, "can i touch you?"
you look at her, confused because she's already touching you.
she glances down at your crotch rubbing against her lap, then she looks back up at you, "down there, sweet girl. please, honey. wanna feel how wet you are."
you nod, your nerves starting to dissipate.
she snakes a hand down your stomach, her fingertips sliding into your panties. when the pads of her fingers meet your folds she groans, "oh, baby... you ever been this wet before?"
you shake your head, rubbing yourself against her digits.
"there you go, grind down just like that, mhm."
her words of encouragement make you speed up a little bit. she beams at you, so proud that her girl is finally comfortable enough to let her feel you in such an intimate place.
"gonna go inside, okay?" she says before slipping two of her fingers inside your sopping cunt. you moan at the intrusion, your movements switching from back and forth to up and down.
abby chuckles, kissing your cheek. she's so happy that she can finally see her baby in this light. on her lap, a moaning mess, "you're so pretty, mama."
you smile and open your eyes to look at abby. she pecks your forehead, rubbing tight circles around your swollen bud. you clean around her and she pulls you closer so your chest is flush against hers. she knew you were close before you did, guiding your hips to bounce on her fingers faster.
when you finally come undone you mutter tens of 'thank you's' into her ear. you'd made yourself feel good many times, but you'd never felt quite like this.
"thank you, abby." you whisper to her.
she nods in response, "no need to thank me. next time you feel like that, you come to me, m'kay?"
you hum in agreement, closing your eyes and starting to drift to sleep.
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vivwritesfics · 1 month
Text
Work For It
Daniel had turned their girlfriend into a pillow princess. Max needs him to fix it
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (male receiving), dom!daniel, dom!max, sub!reader, reader gets called a brat, reader gets called a good girl, spitroasting, p in v, cum swallowing
1.6K
Max x reader x daniel
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Daniel had created a monster.
When their relationship had first started, their girl had been as willing to give as she was to take. She'd get on her knees for them, ride them until the sun rose. They'd do the same for her in return, happy to pay to make her as good as she made them feel.
But then Daniel began giving her everything she wanted. All she had to do was pout a little and wrap her arms around his neck. He'd kiss her pouty lips and carry her to their bedroom to bring her pleasure.
Max had to deal with the burden of it. Where Daniel was happy to do anything she asked, Max wasn't. If she wanted him to help her get off, she was going to have to return the favour.
But Daniel had turned her into a princess. A pillow princess. And Max had to do something about it. He couldn't go to her though, not when she knew she had Daniel wrapped round her finger. So, he went directly to the source.
He waited until she was napping (a regular occurrence, since she stayed up with Max most nights) to talk to Daniel.
"She hasn't sucked me off or ridden in weeks, Daniel," Max confessed, his tone hushed.
Daniel shrugged his shoulders. "I'll suck you off," he said.
"Yeah, I know you will," Max snapped, but he quickly regained his composure. "But that's no the point," he said as he laid back against the couch cushions. "She doesn't do anything by lay there. You've turned her into a pillow princess and you need to fix it."
"Okay," Daniel agreed. "You, you're right. I miss seeing her on her knees for us."
Max leaned in and kissed him, an act that was quickly reciprocated. But before Daniel could push his fingers through Max's hair, messing it up, he pulled away. "Besides, if she doesn't go for it, we could always fuck each other, leave her high and dry."
So, it was decided. The next time she went to Daniel, wearing that tempting pout, he'd say no. He wouldn't give into her (but somehow Max doubted that would actually happen).
The next day, while Max was racing on the sim rig, she went to Daniel. As usual, she wore her prettiest pout as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Danny," she whined, pressing her body against his.
As her body moved against him, she felt just how hard he was in his shorts, just from her touch alone. She was going to get everything she wanted, she thought as she bit back her grin, trying to maintain her pout. "I need you," she whispered.
Daniel squeezed her arms around her, but then he gently pushed her away. "Baby, if you want Max and I to fuck you, you're gonna have to earn it."
Her pout only grew. "But Dannyyyy," she whined as she let her fingers trail down his chest, towards his trousers. This time she couldn't hide her grin as she touched his hardening length.
Again, he gently pushed her away. "Go and suck Max off if you want to get off," he said, pointing to the other room, where the rig was.
Her pout turned into a scowl as she turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Fine," Daniel called back as she went to stride out of the room. "You can go grumble about it and stay needy, or you can go and give Max a blow job," he said.
That stopped her in her tracks. She momentarily dropped the attitude, threw her head back, and groaned. "Fine," she muttered and took off, walking towards Max as he raced.
As she approached, she knocked on the wall. "Are you streaming?" She asked.
When Max shook his head, she approached and got down onto her knees beside him. She still wore that same scowl as got onto her knees beside him. "Schat, what're you doing?" He asked as she fished him out of his shorts.
"He won't touch me, Maxie, not until I suck you off."
Max smirked as she moved her hand up and down his shaft. He sat back, sat comfortably, went went back to racing. "Better get to work, then."
The scowl returned to her face as she moved closer, taking his cock into her mouth. It had been so long since she had last done this, it was only a matter of moments before her knees began hurting and her jaw started aching.
Plus, Max could tell she wasn't putting her all into it. But he said nothing, just shaking his head as Daniel walked into the room and sat, watching them. "She's got quite an attitude, doesn't she?"
Daniel scoffed, laughing. "She's being a little brat at the minute," he said. "Feel free to fuck her throat if you need to."
She pulled off of Max, releasing him with a pop! She sat back, trying to give her knees a rest. She wiped at her mouth, but she didn't have much time before anything else before Daniel was behind her, holding her head, pushing her back towards Max's cock. "I don't think he said you can stop."
Although he was pushing her, Daniel was still gentle. He eased her onto Max's cock, moving her back and forth. He didn't push her all the way around, didn't push her until she was gagging.
Drool ran down her chin when Daniel finally let go of her. He watched for her a moment as she worked through her aching jaw, hollowing her cheeks. Max moaned, his eyes shut as he bucked his hips towards her. He had long since crashed his virtual car, too distracted by the way she was sucking him.
"Good girl," said Daniel, hooking his fingers around the waistband of her little shorts. When he tugged them down and squeezed her ass, she moaned around Max (which felt like heaven to him).
He let her go just a little longer before touching her more. Her shorts were around her knees as Daniel touched her, felt through her folds. Her eyes were shut and she whined, taking just a moment to feel his fingers.
Max bucked up into her lips and she got to work once again. He patted her head as she moved his lips up and down his shaft. When Daniel touched her clit she jolted forward slightly, but she never released Max from her lips.
She pulled back, swirling her tongue around his tip.
"Do you think she's deserved it?" Asked Daniel as he felt just how wet she was.
"Fuck," Max hissed, steadily rocking his hips into her mouth. "Y-Yeah, she's earnt it," he replied, somewhat shakily. He never wanted it to end.
Daniel certainly agreed. He freed himself from the confines of his shorts and rubbed himself through his folds. He slowly pushed through as she let out a cry.
"You earnt this, baby," he whispered before he thrust into her.
She pulled her mouth away from Max's cock to cry out. "Fuck, Danny!" She cried as she threw her head back.
Daniel thrust into her a few times before stopping. If she wasn't going suck Max off, he wasn't going to fuck her. She let out a whine, grinding back against him. "C'mon, Danny," she said as she turned back to him and pouted.
The pout was really starting to piss him off now. "Get back to it," he said, swatting at her ass.
She returned her lips to Max, swirling her tongue around the tip before taking his entire length down her throat. She worked hard while Daniel fucked her, determined to make Max fuck.
"Oh fuck, fuck," Max cried, his fingers gripping her hair. "I'm close." He tried to pull her off, but she batted his hand away and kept working, until he was spilling his seed into her mouth.
She swallowed all he gave to her and released him from her mouth. Max grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him as Daniel fucked her. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, showing that she had swallowed it all. "Wow, princess," Max said, running her thumb over her lips.
Her eyes shut and small whines left her lips and Daniel pounded into her. "Fuck, you should feel her," he grunted as he looked towards Max.
The way she was clenching around him, it had Daniel so close. "Fucking hell." He swatted her ass again and she squeezed him tighter.
"Fuck, Danny, I'm..."
But that was as much warning as she could give him before she was finished, her body convulsing. It took a moment before she stilled, limp body held up by Max and Daniel.
Max ran his fingers through her hair, the feeling so comforting as she came down. Daniel kept going, but his pace as slowed, become sloppy. His grunts filled the apartment before he pulled out of her, spilling onto her back.
He kept a hold of her, keeping her up. Max stood, passing her to Daniel as he want to run a bath for her.
"You did so good, Baby," said Daniel as he wrapped her in his arms. "I'm so proud of you."
She curled into Daniel's hold, her head against his chest as she kissed his skin. "Thank you, Danny," she whispered, running his fingers through his hair. "But, do we have to do that again? I miss you taking care of me."
Daniel's laugh shook his entire body. "Nice try, princess," he said as he picked her up, carrying her to the bathroom.
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chilumi-shipper · 11 months
Text
From Me, For You
Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader
Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.
Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Childe
Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.
You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.
It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.
But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...
He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"
And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.
You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.
You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.
The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.
"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.
The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.
Blood...
Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.
"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."
The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.
"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?
This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.
However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.
"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.
"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"
"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.
A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.
Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.
"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.
"This is just worthless."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.
You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.
Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.
"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.
Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?
Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.
His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.
A realization hit him... they look a lot like...
Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.
A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.
His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.
He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.
Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.
"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."
"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."
"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.
"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."
"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.
"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.
He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.
After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.
"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.
"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."
"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.
"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.
"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.
"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.
The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!
But he will persevere, just for you.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Alhaitham
You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.
It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.
Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.
"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.
The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."
You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.
You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.
it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.
"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.
"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.
"Do you not want to be with me?"
"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.
He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."
And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.
First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.
His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.
Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D
You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!
Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.
Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!
You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.
The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.
At least... that's what you thought...
But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...
Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.
And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.
Apparently, that included your work.
"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."
"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."
"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."
You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.
Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.
You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.
"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.
That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.
This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.
A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.
"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.
"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.
"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.
"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.
"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."
"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."
And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?
Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.
Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.
...
"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.
The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.
"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.
"What are you doing?"
Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."
"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."
And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.
"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.
You made them because... you love him...
And he fucked up.
Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.
He had to fix this.
...
You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.
"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.
On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.
"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."
He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.
For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.
"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.
Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.
Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.
And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.
You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!
But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.
There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.
Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.
Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.
It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...
He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.
You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...
"Would you like to come in for dinner?"
...
You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.
After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.
"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.
With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."
You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.
"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?
You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."
He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."
"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."
"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.
"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."
"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.
"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."
You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.
"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.
"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.
"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"
"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.
"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."
...
"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.
"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.
The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.
"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.
Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."
"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.
"I'll keep that in mind."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D
It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!
7K notes · View notes
goldsbitch · 20 days
Text
You texted...
Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.
angst, one shot
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The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.
Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.
Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.
"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."
Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"
No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."
Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.
"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."
"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.
"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"
Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.
"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."
Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.
"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"
"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"
"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.
Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.
"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.
//
Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.
"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.
"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."
"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.
"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.
"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"
"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.
"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.
"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."
"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."
"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."
"Does he know that?"
"No?"
Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."
"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.
"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."
"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"
Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."
"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.
"What did you text?"
"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."
"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."
They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.
//
A doorbell rang.
"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.
"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"
"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"
"Gotcha."
She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?
But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.
"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.
"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"
"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.
"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.
The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.
She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.
Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"
"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.
"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.
"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."
The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.
"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."
She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.
"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"
It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.
Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.
"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."
He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.
"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."
"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.
"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."
She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.
"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.
"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.
"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."
He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."
She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.
She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.
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strawchocoberry · 1 month
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TRADE MY WHOLE LIFE JUST TO BE
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୨୧ featuring: dr. ratio, blade, sunday, jing yuan, aventurine x fem reader
ଘ cw: smut, spanking, dacryphilia, oral sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, sword play (blade’s part | knife play, but with a sword), praise kink, degradation kink, fear play, nipple play, thigh riding, choking, fingering, rough sex
୨୧ synopsis: you become their slave for a day
ଘ wc: 4.8k
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ʚ DR. RATIO ɞ
It’s not a state secret that Dr. Ratio despises idiots. He does make it abundantly clear any chance he gets. And yet you just had to keep pestering him, asking — begging to be exact — for his attention. Ratio was going to kick you out and go back to his book, when your suggestion piqued his interest.
“A game of chess. The loser will become the winner’s slave for a day. They’ll have to do anything the winner says, no complaints.”
“Anything, huh…?” Ratio smiles, closing his book and readjusting himself on his chair.
He contemplates only a moment on the matter, as you bring over the chessboard and start arranging the pieces. The magnanimous genius allows you to take the white pieces, giving you not only the first move advantage, but also a higher chance of winning against him. And yet, the outcome is all the same in the end; you lose miserably.
Ratio notices your change in demeanour. He can basically hear your thoughts; I need to get out of here. But a bet is a bet. Silently, he finds himself behind you and you startle when he grips your shoulder softly. “I hope you’re prepared, my dear.” His ominous tone and wicked smirk makes you gulp.
The next second, Ratio has you bent over the chessboard, cautious not to move a single piece. He gently caresses your body, his touch feathery, although you know it’s only the beginning; the worst is yet to come. He lifts the skirt of your dress up to your waist, goosebumps erupting on your exposed skin.
You yelp, instinctively biting your lip to muffle your shriek of surprise, as Ratio spanks you once with his book. “I gave you many chances to win,” he starts saying, landing another spank. “And yet you exploited none of them.” Spank. “How utterly disappointing, my dear.” Spank. “Let me explain how you could have won.” And as he goes on to list off all the moves and strategies you could have followed, he continues spanking you, until your arse has turned a beautiful shade of red, stinging from the pain. By the time he’s done, your lip is bleeding from how hard you bit it and your cheeks are smeared by your tears.
“Looks like you enjoyed yourself,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers rubbing your damp panties. He tears them off your body, leaving you gasping, as he takes a few steps away, then stops and turns to look at you again. “Come here, my dear,” Ratio orders. And before you take even a step, he clarifies, “Crawling.”
You’re momentarily frozen, but drop to your knees when you meet his hard gaze. You crawl to him, just like he asked, keeping your eyes on his. When you’re right in front of him, Ratio undoes his trousers, sliding them down just enough to free his cock. “You’re a terrible chess player, but perhaps you’ll be better at this.” His hand caresses your jaw, his thumb pushing through your lips and opening your mouth to slap his cock on your tongue. “For your own good.”
Ratio pushes his cock through your lips, sliding into your warm mouth. When he doesn’t make another move, that’s your cue to start sucking him off. You twirl your tongue around his length, lolling it over that vein on purpose. Your one hand strokes the part of him you cannot fit into your mouth, while the other tends to his balls, softly caressing and squeezing them, earning a few grunts from him.
Usually, he isn’t one to let his emotions show on his face, but his poker face cracks for a moment, lust and greed flashing in and out of his eyes in an instant. Ratio gathers your hair in a messy ponytail and starts thrusting in your mouth, making you gag on his girth. But he couldn’t care less if you were uncomfortable or deprived of oxygen. He pistons his hips, saliva smearing the corner of your lips.
You’re out of breath with tears streaming down your cheeks and it makes him go feral. A moment later, he pulls out of your mouth and strokes his cock, hot cum spilling all over your face. Quite the masterpiece if he says so himself. You’re panting hard, trying to regain the breath he stole from you. And yet this messy appearance of yours makes Ratio hard again, despite just cumming.
“You might be an intellectual failure, but you’re quite the expert in other fields.” Your face is so adorably lewd that he can’t help but pull his phone out and take a photo of it. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I shared this with everyone? I’m sure other stressed geniuses would seek out your services.”
“No—” you protest, when he grabs your elbow and pulls you back on your feet.
“Did I hear you complaining?” he asks, a cruel smirk on his lips. The way you keep your mouth shut and that look that indicates you’re cursing at yourself makes him chuckle. Swiftly, he slams you on the wall, his chest pressing your back further into it, your breasts flattening against the cold surface. “If you don’t want this photo to be distributed around the galaxy, then you better keep your mouth shut.”
You don’t immediately pick up on the meaning of his words, but when he thrusts balls-deep into your soaking pussy, you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your noises. Ratio pulls your arse further out, making your body curve and give him better access, as he pounds into you. Of course, he has no intention of releasing that photo for the world to see. His intentions are rather self-beneficial; first, he’ll get to see that pretty face and jerk his stress off and second, he can blackmail you to relieve his stress for him whenever he wants to.
He pities you for being an imbecile and believing he’d ever do something so low. But even a genius like him has to admit that your idiocy has its perks. Perhaps you’re the only idiot he can tolerate. As long as you allow him to use your body however he wants, torturing you with multiple denied orgasms, whilst filling you up with his own. Why would he want you as his slave for only a day when you can be his slave forever?
ʚ BLADE ɞ
The sounds of swords clashing fill the room, as you spar with Blade. It was supposed to be just a usual sparring session, but Silver Wolf decided to spice things up by making you and Blade agree to a bet; the loser would obey the winner’s every command for a day. Blade wasn’t really interested, but was somehow convinced — or coerced into it — after Silver Wolf’s constant complaints.
However, the little gamer left almost immediately after you agreed on the bet, since Kafka needed her for something. And now, you’re fighting against Blade, the two of you dancing as you evade and attack. You groan, as his sword barely grazes your skin when you dodge his attack in the last moment. Something has changed in his attitude, you can tell. A moment ago, Blade was barely paying much attention to your fight, yet now his eyes betray he’s dead on winning this bet.
He doesn’t want to admit it, but after a brief moment of thought, he did find this bet quite… enticing. Which was Silver Wolf’s plan from the start. You are allowed to feel tricked, because that’s exactly what happened. Blade has been in an awful mood these past few days and you are the only one who can cheer him up. Silver Wolf just provided some aid into that. Besides, you both know that either you win or lose, it won’t really matter, will it?
When Blade disarms you, sending your sword flying behind you, you know you’ve lost. And there’s no mistaking the burning fire in his red eyes. You must resemble prey cowering before its predator, because he chuckles as he approaches you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silence that rules between you. He wraps his arms around you, slamming your body on his. Yes, he’s already feeling much better.
“B-Bladie, wait—”
“Hmm?” he hums, tearing apart your blouse, revealing your bra-clad breasts to him. He dives his face into your plum tits, kissing and nibbling on your soft skin. “Did you say anything, darling?” he coos.
Your head falls back and you’re suppressing a moan, as Blade rips your bra off your body, leaving your upper part completely naked under his eager gaze. You gasp as he takes one nipple into his mouth, flicking and pinching the other one with his thumb and forefinger, toying with it till it stands erect.
You don’t register when he’s discarded the rest of your clothes, his eyes feasting on your delicious form. Blade pushes you on the ground, having you lie on your back, while he’s standing over you, your eyes locked with one another’s. Your breath hitches and you break eye contact with him, your eyes immediately flying to his sword that caresses your body. You’re trembling, but you’re too afraid to move in fear of his sword cutting you.
“You’re so lovely when you’re scared, darling,” he coos, trailing random lines over your body with his sword, cautious not to cut you.
“Is this…” You swallow the lodge in your throat. “Is this what you wanted to do?”
“Part of it,” he replies.
Blade kneels down, spreading your legs with his thigh. A wickedly sick smirk curls up his lips when he sees your dripping folds. He glances at you, then back to your soaked pussy. He didn’t expect you to like this; perhaps neither did you. He leaves the sword aside for now, holding two fingers in front of your mouth. You don’t need to be told to open your mouth and suck on his digits, coating them in your saliva.
As he looms over your body, Blade thrusts his fingers into your eager pussy that clenches around them almost instantly. He can’t help but chuckle as he leans closer to bite down on your neck. Your body arches off the floor, moans leaving your lips as the sound of your squelching pussy echoes around. Your sharp intake of breath is audible when Blade chokes your neck just enough to make you lightheaded.
Aeons, you’re just… so breathtakingly beautiful. All sprawled out on the floor for him, whimpering his name and squirming under him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. Blade won’t admit it, but there are a lot of things he’d like to try. And now that you cannot deny him anything, being his little slave, he’s going to act upon every single fantasy he’s ever had.
You’re so close to that euphoric bliss, only to be denied altogether. You whine and are about to complain, when Blade throws you a hard stare that shuts your mouth, leaving only a small pout. He kisses your pouty lips, while simultaneously freeing his hardened throbbing cock from its confines. He strokes his length a few times, rubbing it on your folds, before pounding into you.
Blade pins your arms over your head, holding them there by your wrists with one hand. He grins, noticing the instant trembling of your body and the way your pussy clenches his cock tighter when he holds his sword to your throat. Your eyes are so big and full of fear and he can’t help but drink it all, thrusting relentlessly into you. And he doesn’t need long to have you cumming all over his cock.
“You love the fear, don’t you, darling?” Blade asks devilishly, biting down on your breast. “Now, you’ll be my good cock slave and let me fuck you till I’m satisfied, right?” He brings the sword closer to your neck, threatening to cut you, as he leans to whisper in your ear. “We both know I need it desperately.”
ʚ SUNDAY ɞ
Despite his benevolent façade, Sunday thrives on coercion. And you’re his favourite toy. He cannot help his urge to break you, make you cry and beg. It’s not unusual for him to use some of his manipulation tactics to lure you where he wants you. And bewitched by him, you’ve yet to realise it. But is that such big of a deal when you secretly enjoy everything he gives you?
You were set to fail from the start. And you would have never guessed that the ethereal man over you was the one responsible for it. Blame it on yourself for not knowing any better than accept a bet from Sunday. Failure was never an option for him. And victory proves to be sweeter than he had anticipated.
“S-Sunday…” you whimper, squirming as you lie down over his desk. “P-P-Please…”
Your entire body is shaking and fat tears stream from your eyes. Instead of indulging your plea, Sunday increases the volume of the vibrator to the max and you cry out. Your mind is long gone to the overstimulated pleasure of your multiple orgasms. You wouldn’t be able to remember what your bet was about even if you tried; only that you’ve signed a deal with the devil to serve him for a day.
Your scream as you orgasm for what seems like the millionth time echoes in the study, curling Sunday’s lips in a vicious smirk. He lowers the volume and leans over you, planting a soft kiss in faux affection on your sweaty forehead. His dark gaze drinks in your pathetic state; quivering body clad in the maid outfit he made you wear, pussy so soaked and sensitive he swears you’ll cum again the moment he slides his cock inside, eyes glossy with tears, pleading for reprieve. His desk has become a mess, but he couldn’t care more about it.
You don’t know this, but Sunday arranged this little — and seemingly innocent — bet to punish you. No, he wasn’t the least bit happy about you spending all that time with that new guy in the general staff. But simply punishing you for giving another man the time of the day instead of him would be too easy and somewhat… boring. What Sunday wanted to see was this; your fearful pleading expression, despite you knowing he wouldn’t show you any mercy. Aeons, his cock has been hard ever since he saw your cheerful expression become terrified when he won the bet.
A small sigh of relief leaves your lips when he removes the vibrator, leaving it aside. You momentarily close your eyes and relax on the hard surface of his desk, your chest rising and falling steadily. For a few seconds, you’ve lost all connection to the world, retrieving yourself in your mind. Sunday chuckles at your rather peaceful state that is then violently twisted into a whiny pout as he rubs his cock on your oversensitive folds, making you whimper.
Before you even have the time to complain, he thrusts inside and stills. He covers his amused smile with his hand, his eyes devouring every inch of your body as your orgasm coats his girth. “I can’t believe you came by only having my cock inside you,” he coos. You can’t believe it either, but you don’t have time to lament on it. Not when Sunday places your legs over his shoulders and thrusts inside you hard, reaching deep that soft spot that makes you cry out in pleasure — and perhaps pain from being overstimulated.
“My angel, the fun has only just begun,” he whispers in your ear, his hand pressing down on your stomach, as he ravages your pussy.
The desk rattles with each thrust of his and you’re holding onto the edge for dear life. You feel as if you can pass out any moment now. And as if reading your thoughts, Sunday whispers, “Even if you pass out…” Thrust. “I’ll fuck you back to consciousness.” Thrust. “There’s no escaping this, my little slave.”
And you’ll find out the hard way that Sunday meant every word of his promise — or threat; depends on how you interpret it. One moment he’s pounding into you and you close your eyes only for a few seconds, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. And the next moment, you open your eyes and meet his, his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping at your delectable juices. Realisation that you passed out hits you as hard as your next orgasm.
Sunday rises to his feet and buries his cock inside you once more, smirking evilly at your cute whiny whimper. He devours your lips, his fingers getting tangled in your hair and his hips slamming against yours, his balls slapping your arse with each thrust. “I told you, there’s no escaping this, angel.”
ʚ JING YUAN ɞ
You’ve been working closely to the general for a long time now, yet sometimes you can’t help but feel as if Jing Yuan underestimates your capabilities. So when a minor problem arises at the Xianzhou Luofu and the general is called to resolve the situation, Jing Yuan decides to give you the chance you’re so desperately looking for. Besides, even if you fail, it won’t pose any risk for the Alliance.
“But if you do fail, then you shall accommodate my every need for a day,” Jing Yuan warns.
“And if I don’t fail?”
“Then I shall become your retainer for a day.”
To have one of the seven Arbiter-Generals do your every bidding for a day is something straight out of the craziest dream in the whole galaxy. And it shall remain but a hopeless dream, since in the end, Jing Yuan had to bail you out of your predicament.
“Mmm very nice,” the general says, grinning pleased. “Now, a small turn.”
You slowly twirl around yourself, the frill long dress eloquently following your every move. This is already the third dress Jing Yuan has made you put on for him. Smiling sweetly, he hands you the next outfit, this time a fitting blouse and a short mini skirt. He enjoys his afternoon by sipping on some delicious tea and watching you put on a catwalk show for him. He might have made you do it, given he won your bet, but he likes to think you’re doing it on your own volition.
Dolling you up in clothes that leave him mesmerised by your beauty has always been one of the general’s favourite past time activities. He just loves spoiling his princess and dressing her up for his eyes to feast on. To his dismay, Jing Yuan needs to enlist some sneaky tactics to have you indulge him, since more often than not you find some kind of excuse to evade him. And that’s because you know him too well and how he’s going to end your little catwalk show.
You’re not even a bit surprised at the last outfit he’s prepared for you. Can you call it an outfit though when it’s just a sexy lingerie set? When you walk out, the general’s eyes widen the tiniest bit, a sign that he’s surprised. But of course he is, when you’re standing in front of him with your blushed cheeks wearing the white lacy bra and thong he had picked for you. His eyes travel down to your thighs that are clad in matching white above-the-knee socks.
Jing Yuan motions for you to approach him and you take timid steps towards him. Despite having done this countless times, he always makes your heart flutter and your breath become uneven. When you’re close enough to him, he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap, your legs on each side of his thighs straddling him. He leaves soft feathery kisses over your neck, down your collarbone and all over your exposed breasts, smirking at your low moans that echo in his chamber.
“Ride my thigh, love,” Jing Yuan orders in a low and deep tone against your neck.
And you’re a goner, your body moving on its own as you adjust your position over his thigh and start to dry hump yourself on him. His arms snake around you, keeping you close to him, as he captures your lips, muffling your moans. His tongue penetrates your mouth, subjugating yours, while his one hand rests on your hips, grinding you harder on his thigh.
One hand is on the headboard behind his head, giving you some kind of sense of balance, while the other grips his white hair, pulling his locks as you moan against his lips. Jing Yuan feels your wet core soaking his trousers as he buries his face in your breasts, kissing and biting them. He chuckles as your body jolts when he spanks your arse, caressing the stinging spot afterwards.
“Jing Yuan…” you moan, looking at him with pleading eyes and flushed cheeks.
He hungrily feasts on your lips like a famished beast as he makes haste with undoing his trousers and pulling them down. His cock is hard and already leaking some precum. Jing Yuan pulls your thong aside and aligns you with his throbbing length, groaning as you go down, your tight pussy engulfing him. And he stays perfectly still, tilting his head to the side with a small smirk curved on his lips.
You receive his message loud and clear and start bouncing on his cock, your previous frown dissipating as your lips part to moan. Jing Yuan pulls the straps of your bra down, spilling your breasts from their confines and taking one in his mouth. His tongue twirls around your nipple, causing the bud to tighten, then gives the same treatment to the other one.
Jing Yuan allows you to ride him at your own tempo and only interferes like a bloody minx when you’re on the verge of an orgasm. He grips your waist in his strong arms and slows down your movements almost to a halt, laughing at your protests and the curses you throw at him. Your frustrated face with those pouty lips and hazed, glossy eyes is a sight to behold. The general doesn’t mind edging himself, as long as he gets to see this utterly bewitching expression on you.
And when he’s had enough of that expression for now, he orders in a stern voice, “Grab the headboard.”
Yet he barely gives you any time to receive, process and execute his order before he’s thrusting up inside you fast and hard, hitting the spot that has you throw your head back and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Your grip on the headboard is so strong, your knuckles have turned white. But you don’t care as you shamelessly cream all over the general’s cock that rearranges your guts. Your body convulses in his embrace and you’re crying out his name when your impending orgasm floods you.
ʚ AVENTURINE ɞ
Your mistake was letting him get you to agree to his bet. Gambling is his domain. It’s where Aventurine thrives. It’s something everybody knows. Yet for some reason you forgot all about it in those few seconds when you agreed and shook his hand. You only seemed to have snapped out of your halo when you noticed his wicked smirk.
Your doom was to be expected. Yet Aventurine has to admit that you put up a good game. You were just unlucky to go up against him. But well, in the end, he’s the winner. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?
Aventurine leans back on his seat, as his eyes roam all over you, taking in every little detail about you. His scrutinising gaze makes your cheeks blush and you nervously bite down on your lip. Your nervousness makes him all the more excited to claim his prize, namely you.
“Strip,” he orders, a hint of mischievousness tinting his voice. “Everything but your undergarments.”
And when you freeze before him, looking at him like an idiot, his smile disappears and his gaze darkens. It’s the gaze of a predator about to lunge at its prey. Your body moves on autopilot, discarding your clothes and leaving only your undergarments on as he had requested. His eyes devour you, even though he has yet to touch you. You steal glances of him, noticing lust and desire flash in his eyes behind the frames of his glasses.
Taking his glasses off and leaving them on the poker table, Aventurine motions you to approach him and sits you on his lap. He places a stray strand of hair behind your ear before gently caressing your cheek with his knuckles, his cold rings sending shivers down your spine. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, your body moulding into his. Goosebumps erupt everywhere he touches you and he feels your heart beat like crazy as he kisses your neck. His hand covers your bra-clad breast, squeezing and eliciting a moan from you.
He captures your lower lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to make you tense and your legs clench around him. As if to ease the pain he inflicted, he caresses your lip with his thumb. “I want to feel your lips wrapped around my cock,” he muses, his eyes stuck on your lips. Then, he glances up into your eyes. “On your knees, sweetheart.”
You needn’t be told twice before you slowly stand up, kissing his lips, then his chest through the opening of his shirt, before finally dropping to your knees between his spread legs. Aventurine adjusts himself and relaxes, his eyes following eagerly your every move. You unbutton his trousers and pull it down, revealing his semi-hardened cock. You pepper soft kisses along his length, smearing the tip with precum.
When you take him in your mouth, Aventurine releases a guttural groan. Tentatively, you suck on his girth, while keeping your eyes on him at all times. He finds you utterly perfect like this. Your warm mouth makes him harder the longer he’s buried inside. Your lips leave him and are replaced by your hand, as you tend to his balls, sucking each one in your mouth, blowing his mind and making him throw his head back.
You know he’s close when you feel him tensing under your touch. Your tongue swirls around him, working him to his release. But Aventurine doesn’t let you finish what you started. Standing up, he lifts you up and kisses your lips, tasting himself on you. His hand slides down between your legs and rubs your folds, a smirk curving on his lips at how wet you are. “Such a dirty whore,” he sneers, his lips brushing yours.
The next moment, he bents you over the poker table and positions himself between your spread legs. You gasp when he tears your panties, the torn pieces of fabric falling on the floor. The table rattles when he thrusts inside you, bottoming out. His thrusts are hard and hit deep from the start. Aventurine grabs your hair and peels your upper body off the table, having you support yourself on your hands, as your body curves against his. Your tits bounce and spill out of your bra, as you moan and whimper.
“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” Aventurine breathes. His hand leaves your hair which falls freely all over your back and wraps around your throat, pulling you back to him. “So tight for me,” he muses, biting down on your shoulder.
Your jaw drops to the floor with an inaudible scream as he cums inside you, filling you up with his seed. But he doesn’t stop. He continues pounding into you, a white ring forming around his cock as he fucks his seed back into your eager pussy that clenches around him. Aventurine bents you back down, face down on the poker table and holds your arms behind your back with one hand, while the other grips tightly your hip, slamming your body hard on his.
You cry out his name for everyone to hear as your orgasm comes crashing down on you, which pleases him greatly. Aventurine leans over you without interrupting his rhythm, his hot breath fanning over your ear. “That’s right,” he whispers. “You belong to me, sweetheart. Now and forever.” Because if you thought he’d let you go just like that, you had another thing coming for you.
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© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work
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satoruxx · 2 months
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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words
SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing
RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33
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i. the unknown
satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  
his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 
you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 
"who's the rookie?" 
satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 
it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 
he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 
"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.
satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 
suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 
the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 
suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 
"maybe she's strong?" 
"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 
ii. routine 
"can i ask you guys a question?" 
a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 
"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 
"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 
"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 
satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 
"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.
"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 
you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 
the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  
"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 
after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.
"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 
"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 
"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."
the conversation ends there. 
shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.
shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 
a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 
but you can't. 
iii. halcyon
"hey suguru?"
"hm?"
"how come you always do your hair the same way?"
suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.
"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.
"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."
"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.
"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"
he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."
you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"
he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.
"how should i style it then, hotshot?"
his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."
he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.
"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"
suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"
you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."
he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.
"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.
"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.
"i like yours."
you blink. "mine?"
"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."
something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.
"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."
"do mine like that," he says quickly.
once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"
"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.
"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.
"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."
"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.
iv. fragility
"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 
"—so that makes you her family then." 
suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 
"…yes." 
you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 
"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 
"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 
"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 
satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 
you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 
he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 
"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 
it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 
that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?
your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 
v. longing
riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 
satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.
you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 
"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  
"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 
"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 
suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 
"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 
you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 
your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 
the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 
and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 
"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 
"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."
his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 
he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 
"me too." 
he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 
"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 
you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 
he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 
"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 
he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 
"mine?" you chuckle.
"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 
"oh? and why's that?" 
suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 
you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 
"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 
"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.
"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 
"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 
suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 
"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 
vi. ice bath
shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.
the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 
"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 
you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.
you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.
suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.
now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 
shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 
where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 
you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 
"shoko?" 
it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 
"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 
vii. acid rain
the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 
"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"
you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 
"let's get out of here, guys."
your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 
satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 
you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?
"do you want to…kill them all?" 
the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 
"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.
you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 
you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.
satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 
"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 
you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 
"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 
"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 
satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 
you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 
"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 
viii. fever dreams
satoru lies next to you. 
a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 
tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 
it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 
his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.
you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 
"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 
"i know." 
ix. doubt
satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.
not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 
"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 
there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 
"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 
he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 
your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 
"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 
there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"
a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 
"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"
"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 
x. shadow
satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.
you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"
"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.
"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."
your head is spinning.
"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"
"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.
"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."
you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"
satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.
"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."
you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.
"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"
shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.
god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.
"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.
"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.
"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"
a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."
you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.
"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"
you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.
his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"
his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."
xi. hellfire
you hear suguru before you see him.
his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.
you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.
or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.
it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.
you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.
now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.
suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.
you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.
"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"
your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.
you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.
"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.
he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"
"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"
"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."
you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.
"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.
"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.
"he went back to the dorms."
"okay."
you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.
the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.
haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.
not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.
you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"
his voice sounds far away. "hm?"
"are you okay?"
he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."
"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."
you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.
"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.
but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.
haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.
"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"
his voice tickles your ears.
"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 
hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.
suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.
you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.
"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"
"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."
something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.
you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 
you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.
but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.
xii. split
he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 
you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 
but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 
that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 
suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 
"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 
"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.
but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 
"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 
"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 
you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.
you don't know what to say to him now. 
"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 
"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 
"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"
the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 
"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 
your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"
suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 
anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 
suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 
"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 
"suguru—" 
"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 
you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 
a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…
"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 
"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 
he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 
you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 
you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."
he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  
you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 
he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 
nobody has laughed in a while now. 
you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 
he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.
"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 
his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 
"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 
a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.
"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 
you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 
"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 
go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 
"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 
"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 
"better late than never, right?" 
the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 
his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 
"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 
"'m not crying." 
suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.
he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 
he doesn't. 
"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"
"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 
he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."
he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 
you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 
you accept your fate then and there. 
you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.
he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.
xiii. sanctify
satoru's at your door again. 
you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 
"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 
YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.
underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 
hotshot failing class now huh? :P
and shoko had added: 
both of you stfu you're failing too 
you had drawn a heart next to her name. 
"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"
satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 
"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 
he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.
a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 
"want help?" 
"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 
"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 
"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 
you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 
"…are all of suguru's things." 
there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 
"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 
satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 
"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 
"guess not." 
you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.
you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 
a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 
"let's get started then, hotshot." 
he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 
but it's enough for the two of you. 
"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 
"so do you." 
"i am," you admit honestly. 
"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 
"i know," you answer. you always are.
nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 
you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  
both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 
you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 
"hey." 
you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 
"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 
you frown. "what are you talking about?" 
"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 
you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 
satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 
you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 
"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 
"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."
xiv. idyll
it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.
tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.
"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.
"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."
"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."
"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."
"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"
you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."
satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"
"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.
"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.
"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."
satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."
he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.
so you don't say anything either.
the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.
when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"
you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."
"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."
"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."
"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."
you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."
satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"
you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"
your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.
he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"
your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"
satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."
he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."
he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.
"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.
his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."
"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.
then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."
everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.
you can't help but smile. "always."
you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.
the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.
he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.
xv. retribution
the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.
he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.
and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.
except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.
he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.
the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.
suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.
you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.
it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.
you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.
a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"
you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"
"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"
your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.
"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"
he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"
there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.
"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.
it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.
his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."
you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.
he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.
you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.
but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?
you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"
he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."
"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.
"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"
he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.
another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.
and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.
he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.
when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.
"you're late, satoru."
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shawnxstyles · 1 year
Text
panty stealer
DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023
summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.
request: yes!
words: 5.1k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.
note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2
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“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.
“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”
peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.
the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.
like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?
people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.
peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.
he did, right?
brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.
peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.
flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.
speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.
“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.
“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.
“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?
“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”
“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.
peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.
“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”
peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.
soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.
“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”
peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”
“oh, you’re so in for it.”
so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.
peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?
“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.
“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”
“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.
“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.
their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?
for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.
unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.
when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.
it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.
peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.
“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.
your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.
“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”
“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.
besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.
he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.
usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.
“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”
“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.
poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.
flash deserved it, though.
brad is probably getting one of their numbers.
peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.
“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.
“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.
how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.
peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.
“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?
“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.
“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”
your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.
“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”
“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.
“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.
he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.
he would say some of his confidence is back now.
he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.
peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.
“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”
“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?
his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.
“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.
“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”
you shake your head.
“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.
“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.
“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.
“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.
he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.
peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.
he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.
the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.
his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.
“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.
peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.
“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”
peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.
your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.
“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.
“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”
you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.
“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”
you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.
“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.
“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.
hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.
“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.
slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.
“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.
“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”
if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.
there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.
that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.
his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.
“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.
“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”
with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.
summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.
you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.
you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.
a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.
when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.
“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”
“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”
peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.
“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.
“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.
“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.
“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?
“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.
“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.
you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.
you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.
“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.
suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.
“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.
with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.
“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.
rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.
so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.
as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.
oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.
what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.
tags: @raajali3
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number1jeonginstan · 4 months
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A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I’ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!
Minors don't interact, 18+
Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader
WC: 3k (oh!)
Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)
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Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 
“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”
Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.
“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”
“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 
He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 
Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 
“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 
Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 
You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 
He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 
He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 
He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 
He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.
He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 
He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 
You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 
The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 
Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 
You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 
You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 
“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 
He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 
“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 
“Am not” 
“Are too”  
Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 
You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 
“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 
You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.
Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 
“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 
“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 
“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 
“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 
Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.
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You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 
You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 
You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 
The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.
Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?
You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 
You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 
But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?
If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 
That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 
He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 
Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 
His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.
“Jinnie-ah” 
He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 
“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 
His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 
You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 
That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 
“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  
You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”
He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 
“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.
“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 
“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 
“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 
“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 
Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 
“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 
“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.
He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 
His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 
He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 
“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 
“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 
“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 
He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  
He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 
“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.
“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 
“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 
“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 
“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 
“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 
That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 
“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 
He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.
“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 
“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.
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